At one point in her life, Samantha was elated that the weekend came. Once upon a time, she would be waking up far too early for her alarm, hopping in the shower, gussying up for a night out on the town with her besties. Get shitfaced, fondle a lot, say lewd things, or even settle into a night of incredibly gory or tawdry movies. It was truly a time of prosperity, and it was good.
Now, though... Now... Ever since she became a parent, she needed to put other priorities first. For instance, not strangling, eviscerating, vivisecting, razing, disemboweling, or think or attempt any other form of abuse towards her surrogate daughter. And that’s before considering what to have for breakfast –without poisoning. For her or the evil little darling.
She still got up early, though it wasn’t from excitement... or even really choice. Sehmi was always up at 6 PM. On the dot. In contrast, that would be around the time her own body would decide to drift back into consciousness, to let her feel the devil scrape down her as she stood and headed for the restroom –oh, but it wasn’t a quick process, no. That would have made it tolerable, if not bearable... Sehmi, the little sweetie that she was, would try so... so hard not to wake her. It was slow going, like removing a bandaid, knowing it would be faster to just rip it off but holding back out of anxiety.
THE DIFFERENCE, THOUGH, WAS THAT SAMANTHA WASN’T THE ONE RIPPING.
She would feel that little cuddle bug descend, like a zipper or velcro, ripping away from her, from the bed until, at last, she plopped off at the bottom and scampered away... Leaving Samantha to groan. That Saturday... was no different than the Friday or Thursday or Wednesday. In fact, she wished for Tuesday, where she had been so exhausted her body had let her stay adrift, but no. Worst part? She didn’t have Minos there to take her frustrations out on –and speaking of frustrations! Though she received a sandpaper treatment from Sehmi, that didn’t stop her from feeling very wet below, aching, needing to be filled.
Her eyes blinked open, slowly, clearing the fog, both of sleep and wrath... and found she was looking at the nightstand, at its drawer... Instead, she grabbed her phone off the top, grimacing as it glowed. You know, teachers are usually done by now, Samantha thought, looking at the date. It was almost the end of June. I should be at the beach or back home at a barbecue or something. Not down here in this fucking box playing parent!
However, at the same time, she felt a bit of gratitude being down in that steel box. If her weather app was to be believed, it was 102 back at home, with 75% humidity and 100% chance of that rain actually being brimstone spewing from the crags that opened and made it a Hell on Earth back... and it didn’t look much better here in West by God Virginia. That heat, plus that high a humidity, meant one was swimming through an ocean of pain, anyways, so the brimstone would have been a mercy.
Shocking, though! I thought it would still be snowing ... Then again, it still could. Look at Silent Hill.
She chuckled at her own joke, each rumble knocking her eyes further shut, and put her phone back down.
Almost dropping it as someone hammered at her door.
The bathroom opened, answering with its own thunder, and Sehmi stepped out of it. Fire leaped from her brow again, her “tail” lazing down, “rattling” as she stalked towards the entrance. She tried to put on a spring green dress, but her fire and skin reduced it to smoldering shreds in five steps, crackling away as they lazed through the air behind. The room rumbled with her growl, rising as she wrenched the door open.
All gone as she saw Lisa on the other side.
“Sissy Lissy,” Sehmi exclaimed, clapping her hands fast as she bounded- and hopped back half a step with each one.
Sissy Lissy? Samantha huffed, getting out of bed at last, and felt incredibly underdressed compared to the Fang at the door. Once more, Lisa was wearing something straight out of the Victorian era, if not bordering further back on true Gothic. However, it clashed with history, made of bright, emerald thread, and was only embroidered with the darker, more natural colors that made it seem more an art piece, a statement on how the natural and preternatural can exist in harmony and thrive off each other. In many ways, it felt more like what the Gothic era idealized, the grand extravagance and ideals of the time given life within every stitch, simply compounding that feeling inside of Samantha of being plain and mundane- but this was Samantha. She only thought it was pretty, and she was ugly... She shook her head, which only jostled the yawn that had wedged in her throat, and waved at Lisa. “Morning. Since when did she call you Sissy Lissy?”
“Now, apparently,” Lisa said, giggling as she entered- and Samantha only saw the cupcake in her hands. And so did Lisa. She blinked as she raised it, looking it over, and shrugged. “I was starting to feel a touch hungry. Thank you again, Sam.”
“Eh? What? Wait. You’re thinking I’m-”
Before she could finish asking, she bit into the confection –which Samantha was thanking whatever was above she never tried that with her. Her jowls sprung so freely, like a shark’s row, extending out far further than one would expect from such a fine face. The entire top of the muffin, easily as large as a softball, was gone. Lisa moaned a little as she wiped the pink cream off her lips, licking her fingers clean as well, all the while walking passed Sehmi and sitting at the desk chair.
Peter wasn’t far behind. And Sehmi tensed. She snorted, growling again, and even Samantha could smell the heated musk he was exuding. His face was incredibly red, his hair a bit disheveled, and his steps a bit... jerky. He sat on the bed, smiling at them all... stolen, seeing the cupcake.
“Where did you get that?” He uttered.
“Oh. Sam gave it to me when I entered.” Lisa said, taking another bite –another, shark-like bite.
“I did no such thing,” Samantha said, holding up her hands as Peter gave her a heated look. “If I did, I would have one my- oh my.”
“See? Don’t be so modest, Sam. These cupcakes are truly divine. I haven’t had one this good since... since... ah! When I was nine. In the castle. Though I must say these are far better.”
“Peter?” Samantha began, nibbling at her pastry. Which came with a note. If you wanted one so badly, dear, you could have simply asked... but Peter was already standing. Though it took him twice, he finally found the strength to head for the bathroom. Samantha closed the door behind, and scoffed, glowering at him. “Okay. Why is Lucille sending so many threatening pastries –and being so nice to me? And, considering how your walking today, I think I already know the answer. At least for her. For me, though-”
“She must really hate you.”
“Or loves to see me lovin’ her baking.”
“Yes. That’s true, as well... but we haven’t done... that, yet.”
“Oh, but you are planning to. Is that what you are saying?”
“Yes? No? I don’t know! Wasn’t your plan to take care of her, anyways? Besides, it’s been so long since I’ve been this... attracted to a woman. And too long since I had my own cupcake-”
“H-hey! That’s mi-” He ate it in one bite, paper and all... Samantha puffed her cheeks and looked away, crossing her arms. “Still. You should show reticence until after she’s taken care of.”
“You must be serious. You would never use a word like ‘reticence’ otherwise.”
“Ha ha hah... You’re right, though. I... I still have no idea how I’m going to take care of her... Though... I do have an idea.”
“And what is it?”
“Well, you remember how Minos acted at the beginning of the year, with the smell of Mahna?”
“Yes? I assure you, Sam, Lucille doesn’t have a problem with mer, though-”
“That’s not what I’m getting at. You saw how... blind he was with rage. Is there anything that can make Lucille that pissed, that she loses all thought except to kill what is before her? Has she shown a tendency for that in the past?”
“No, actually. Whenever she approached something, it was always with a clear mind, premeditated to the point of being prophecy. She never let one detail, one blemish, get in the way of anything.”
“But could there be? Could there be something that could push her well over the edge and force her to act with abandon?”
Peter blushed, clearing this throat. “W...well... there could be... two things, actually.”
“I... I don’t feel... I don’t think we should go that route.”
“And why is that?” She reached out and took Peter’s hands. “Pete, if you want her off your back, for good, then you’ve got to consider the extremes.”
“I know, but it’s...”
“It’s... I can’t. I can’t force that on Lisa. I simply can’t!” He pulled his hands free... and heaved a heavy sigh as he stomped back to the toilet, sitting on its lid. He cupped his hands and leaned his chin in them, the look on his face lost between disgust... and hope. “But... at the same time, we’ve known each other for a long time. Really, the fellatio, digital stimulation, and vaginal frottage have all been immaterial to the companionship she’s given, that we’ve shared. It’s been so... so long since I’ve been close to anybody, have been intimate with anybody... but I can’t simply ask her to piss off Lucille. That would make me no better than her... however, at the same time, those two acts would make her have a conniption. There would be nothing else on her mind than to simply kill her, which would leave her defenseless... but that’s still a lot to ask Lisa for.”
“Can you at least tell me?”
Peter shook his head, and bolted to his feet.
“No. I... I need to go. I... need to talk with Lisa.” He practically sprinted to the door, flung it open- then forced himself to slow, to cool down as he stepped out and approached Lisa. She was almost done with the cupcake, down to the last quarter. The cream had been licked off completely, the rest of the pastry forgotten for a moment as she and Sehmi were chatting and giggling about... something.
The Fang exhaled, and smiled up at Peter as he approached, frowning.
“Peter? What’s the m-” She began.
“I am sorry, but we need to go,” he said, looking over his shoulder at Sehmi. She was growling, glaring at him, fire flickering on her brow, but only just. “It’s going to be all right. I simply need to discuss something with her. She’ll be back later on.”
“She better,” Sehmi stated, and her brow was consumed with flames as Lisa hissed. She had taken the last bite of the cupcake, and something had cracked, something hard... something sharp. Lisa tried to keep herself modest, tried to pry whatever it was while barely opening her mouth, but the amount of blood and cake made it impossible to dislodge the razor that had embedded into her tongue. It mangled more flesh as she slid it out, grounded down into jagged edges, almost like hooks, ripping and tearing as she pulled free. She turned a bit green seeing it, her tongue visibly mending for them all to see, but the damage had been done. Her chin, her throat, and the top of her dress had been coated in a fine, sticky, glistening red sheen.
“Sam,” she said, holding that metal bit up. “Why d-”
“For the last time, it wasn’t me-”
“It wasn’t her!” Both she and Peter said at once. Peter pinched his brow... and nodded. The disgust was gone from his face, replaced with determination, his green eyes shining as he took Lisa’s hand. “Come. It is of great importance. Your life is very much at stake.”
With that, he whisked her out into the hall, barely able to keep her feet underneath her as he flew to his room. Samantha watched after, waited for his door to slam, but with it came a sharp stab to her temple, as if somebody had poked it really hard... with a butter knife. She winced as she tried to soothe it, only seeming to making it worse until she sat on the bed. Sehmi did, actually make it worse by hugging her, scraping against her back, whimpering a little.
“Mistress otay?” She said... which made Samantha chuckle.
“If it worts –otay, it didn’t there, but most of the time it does.”
“And what do you use for the G sound?”
“... Eh. It works, I suppose... But yes. I’m okay, Sehmi. I’m... I just need a moment.”
“And Sissy Lissy? Is she choing to be otay?”
“Most likely... Really, Sehmi, Peter is a sweet guy. He wouldn’t even harm a fly if he didn’t have to.”
“I know. I wish Mistress would cho with him instead of evil horn man.”
“Minos isn’t evil. He’s... Minos. That’s both a good and bad thing.”
Samantha tittered, and patted her head. “In any case, there’s two more people you need to meet.”
“Two more of your friends? I didn’t know mistress was so popular.”
She barked a laugh, standing again, and took Sehmi’s hand, the metal in her palm groaning a touch as the demon gripped.
“‘Popular’ is a stretch. After we go meet them, you can go hang with Sissy Lissy for a bit. That is, if she and Peter are done with what they had to talk about.”
They better fucking be. They left the room, went down the steps... which hers slowed as they reached Minos’ room. They wanted nothing more than to turn to it, melt that door away, and fling her onto that bulky cowboy... But... she forced herself to continue on. Ayn’s room was first, but one quick look inside showed that was pointless. She hadn’t been there for weeks; the rust was practically crying out for attention.
Samantha continued to Norman’s. She knocked on the door, and waited... knocking again. She pondered the visor, wondered if she should look in; it was Norman and Ayn, after all. There was nothing illicit happening, right... right? She tried knocking again, thundering into the room, shaking the Hall, itself, with her force... again, no answer.
“Okay... Norman!” She called through the metal, gripping the shield. “I respected your privacy by knocking, but I am asserting my role as your teacher and warden by looking in anyw-”
She peeked in, for only a moment.
And slammed the shield shut.
Soft, almost girlish moans escaped into the hall, rife with such pleasure, rolled, carried further by deep, throaty giggles... Samantha cleared her throat, wishing the heat in her cheeks would go as she turned to Sehmi.
“On second thought, I think you can meet them later,” she said.
Sehmi cocked her head. “Eh? Why?”
“I’ll still be talking to them, but I’ll... break the ice for them first. Yes! That sounds like a good idea... So why don’t you go along and start making lunch. I’m feeling... cold-cuts today.”
The “elf” huffed... but ran up the hall, leaving Samantha to face that door again. She took a deep breath, steeling herself -literally- before she threw open the door. Ayn and what appeared to be Norman were on the bed, but most of him was hidden behind Ayn. And her bare form. They were kissing, their moans mingling, her dark skin almost red with her glow.
With her fire.
She had large, white wings, light blue fire roaring from them, scorching the ceiling, burning painfully white all the while Norman grunted and shuddered with pleasure. His member could be seen a moment bounding over Ayn’s thigh, gushing out and back onto his chest. He broke the kiss, writhing a bit in her grasp, still stroking him.
“That was wonderful, baby,” Ayn said, her voice distorted, almost... angelic, as if a harp made it rise and lilt through the air, through Samantha’s mind. The thoughts that came with it, though, were anything but holy, imagining, seeing herself strip out of her rags and lapping at Norman as Ayn continued to stroke and toy with him. She could see herself straddling him, feeling him twitch against her, as she buried her face in Ayn’s chest, suckling those truly ruby gemmed tips, glistening in the soft, blue light.
However, the thoughts were shifted, twisted as Ayn looked back at her. Those crimson eyes had a shock of blue in them, burning brighter as she bolted out of bed. Her chest and stomach and even thighs were coated in layers -LAYERS- of Norman’s love, rubbed and caked into the dark flesh, making that sky blue fire burn even brighter.
“Do you mind?” Ayn said, and groaned as she sat beside Norman. She eased him into her lap, kissing him... and her hand visibly shook as it wanted nothing more than to take a hold of his member again, drooling still from the last shot. “Norman, baby. We have a visitor.”
“Hmm? Wha?” He said, his voice, his vision lost to dreamscapes, blinking back to reality, paling, seeing Samantha. “O-oh! Oh my g- oh. Quick cover m... I guess it’s too late for that, huh?”
Ayn giggled, and turned him towards her chest.
“There. You should be nice and covered like this,” she bit her lip as she cooed, but gasped, wincing as she shook her head. “Dammit... what do you want, Sam?”
“... It seems you already made the wish,” Samantha said, swallowing another mouthful of saliva, a fruitless effort as her mouth simply was drenched in it a second after. “So... this is your true form, huh? It’s... plainer than I expected.”
“I haven’t had years to tarnish it, so I’m as pure a succubus as there can be.”
“Now defiling Norman.”
“She’s not,” Norman exclaimed, though coming out more like a breathless pant. “I... I knew this was going to happen. As soon as I recommended the wish.”
“And what was the wish? Specifically.”
“I wished that I was whole again, and that I would live, happily, with my one true love until our natural deaths once we meet,” Ayn said, and heaved a hefty sigh. “Succubus can’t die naturally. We do not age, aren’t effected by most poisons or diseases, and don’t necessarily starve or die of thirst. Though we feel it. Heavily!”
“So I see... Have you been doing it for the last two weeks?”
“It’s been two weeks?” Both Ayn and Norman said... Ayn snorted, which made Norman giggle.
“Oh shut up,” Ayn grumbled, blushing as Norman kissed her regardless. Her fire, her wings faded away with that kiss, returned to her usual, bitchy self.
“What? You were hungry... and you need to get in control of that half again. When you meet Mister Right, you don’t want to drain him dry in the first hour.”
She hugged him tight, groaning. “Don’t remind me, Norman. I’m going to be so sad to lose you.”
“I know, but it’s part of your wish. I’ll be with you until then, though.”
“Damn right you are.” Ayn rolled her wrist towards Samantha. “Which is...”
“Now, if you want. I’ve already made the deal with Lilith. Just give the word, and I’ll contact her to point you in the right direction... Something wrong, Norman?”
“Oh! N-no. It’s... it’s fine... I suppose I couldn’t stay down here all the time, but... I’m not... I’m sure I’m ready to go out there.”
“Norman, baby,” Ayn said, cooing as she continued to squeeze him. And even rocked him. “You’ll do fine... If need be, I’ll be there to look out for you. Hell, even my new fucktoy could help out. It’s either that or-”
“You’ll restrict sex?” Samantha cut in.
“Fuck no! I’ll fuck him even more. I seen first-hand that’s a bigger threat with you and Minos.”
“Where is Minos?” Norman said. “Usually he’s glued to you.”
“Don’t remind me,” Samantha grumbled. “As you two were doing the horizontal monster mash for the last fortnite, you missed a shitton.”
“Finally killed him, huh?” Ayn said, whistling. “Damn... You really are a mane-”
“No. No, I haven’t... but I might the next chance I get.”
“Chance?” Norman said, and grabbed the blanket off the bed, throwing it over them. “What do y... Oh. Who are you?”
“Who is w-” Samantha began, and lurched a step forward as Sehmi hugged her from behind.
“Lunch is ready, Mistress!” She said, giggling as she seemed to glide around her, nuzzling her way under her arm. “I made exachly as you ache- eh? Are these the people you wanted me to meet?”
Shit, Samantha thought, but cleared her throat as she smiled and fanned her arm to them.
“Yup. Sehmi, this is Ayn and Norman. Norman, this is my... daughter...”
As she said it, Sehmi pounced on them, hugging them both.
“It’s so nice to meet you!” She shrilled, tittering, but cried as Ayn punched her off and onto the floor. And the dragon growled, rising from Samantha’s arm... settling, realizing. The blanket that hid their modesty had been shredded, only held together by the blood seeping out of the succubus’s breasts.
Ayn growled, glaring down at the girl, at Samantha as she helped her find her feet. Sehmi buried her face against Samantha’s chest, scratching at the metal film. Crying.
“Why did she hurt me, mistress?” The “mer” bawled, sobbing, softening as Samantha shushed and patted her head.
“It’s okay, Sehmi. She didn’t mean it... It’s okay... I’ll be done in here a moment, okay?”
“O... otay... I really lited them, too. They smelled chood.”
Sehmi sniffed, wiped her face, then shuffled off... Samantha closed the door gently behind her, easing the visor shut before her hand sparked, melting it in place. What she should have done in the first place... She wheeled back to Ayn, whom was bandaging Norman, covered in cuts, in more scars, whetted with fresh blood.
“Okay. What. The hell. Did we miss?” Norman hissed.
“You have a daughter?” Ayn exclaimed. “Not only a daughter but... whatever the fuck that thing is! The fuck!”
“Was it really only two weeks?”
“It’s only been two weeks. I assure you. A long... long two weeks,” Samantha grumbled, leaning back on the door. Once more, sparks crackled through the room, bringing a small joy as the cameras and microphone hidden in it squelched and smoked. “First off, Jack is gone. Kaylee saved him. Even put in a few holes in Lilith’s foot for good measure.”
“I don’t know who this Kaylee is, but I already love her,” Ayn said. “But what about that... thing? Did she say we smelled like chode?”
“She can’t say G’s or K’s... Peter had a fancy name for them, but it’s because Cain had throat-fucked her and ripped out her original one. Back when she was a simple mer, that is.”
“What... the... hell are you talking about, nigga?” Ayn shrieked. “Who the hell is Cain? ‘Simple’ mer?”
“Oh. Yeah. She’s a clone. And Cain is her husband.”
“Now there’s cloning- the fuck? Husband! What year is it?”
“It’s... it’s a lot to explain. I don’t even know where to start-”
“Why not with the cloning? That seems like a fucking good place.”
“Well, there are hidden chambers below the school-”
“Color me fucking surprised.”
“Hey! You said to start somewhere-”
“Nigga, I didn’t want you to get fucking smart with me-”
“You said to start there, and I was getting around to that-”
“While getting smart-”
“Not hard with your dumb ass-”
“You dare, n-”
“Will you two relax?” Norman exclaimed... and sighed, shaking his head. “Honestly.”
“R... right,” Ayn said, hugging him tight. “Sorry, baby.”
“As am I,” Samantha said, and clapped. “Right. There are other rooms here aside the Black Halls, places that lead further down, to things that are too unbelievable to describe.”
“Cloning vats, splicing chambers, black market warehouses-”
“All below the school?”
“If I had to venture a guess, the warehouses are ‘down’ but not down... Considering how the tubes go, it could easily be any direction for a good 50-to-200 miles away. It could be another city or even state, and I have a feeling this isn’t the only place that does it. How Lilith and Cain were talking-”
“Wait. Lilith knows?”
“Lilith runs it. Most likely this is her entire area, while Cain oversees all for someone called the Father-”
“Adam,” Norman said.
“Well, if it’s THE Cain you are talking about, there’s only one person who he could really refer to as THE Father. It’s the same in the Himan Bible. Cain is the father of all himan, the ogreish abomination that killed his own brother. If that’s the case... yes. That poor girl was tainted by him, made into one of his flock-”
“So why is she here?” Ayn said. “If she is really one of Cain’s-”
“Maybe he wants a normal life for her? Cain was never really a monster. Just... different. He killed his brother by complete accident trying to save him from marauders that were after him and his family.”
“So what does that have to do with that thing?”
“It’s his cloned wife. I said that already,” Samantha blurted. “When you say family, Norman, do you mean his brother’s family or his own?”
“Both, actually. It was a rather large band of marauders. Cain and Abel were both lucky to have been away at the time; if they were home, they would both be dead.”
“So she was killed as well? And now he entrusted me with her?” She slid down the wall, the lump in her chest heavy, making it hard for her to breathe.
“Seems so. Looks like you are considered family.”
“Yeah... seems like it.” She fixed the shield then opened the door, falling back out. Her head thumped on the ground, and the screeching was reduced to barely more than a mumble against her head. “Well, thanks for the talk. I better go check on my goddaughter.”
“Alright. Take care, Sam... and thank you. For everything.”
“Yeah. Thanks, Sam,” Ayn said. “We won’t ever forget you... now close the door. You’re letting the stank out.”
Samantha did. She lumbered back to her room, burdened by the knowledge she now carried. She didn’t have much an appetite anymore, but she knew she would have to at least eat one of the items Sehmi made, if but to appease her. If but to keep herself safe. Cain trusted her to her care, after all. He most likely programmed in her code to hate Lilith; was this a chance for a coup? Was Cain trying to muscle in on Lilith’s territory, using his newly born wife as a key.
As a pawn.
This was THE Cain, the first killer, after all –at least, in the himan bible. It didn’t skew that far from the truth, did it? Each step was agony on her joints, forced to raise that hufficane, renewed, up the stairs and to her room. She could barely open the door, but was surprised to see Lisa was already back. She was on the bed with Sehmi, both reading; it was Lisa’s turn, her voice still so... beautiful, enthralling. Sehmi watched her with rapt attention, not even noticing Samantha trudge in.
But Lisa did.
She looked up from the book a second, her blue eyes a touch bloodshot, but returned to the book as Samantha continued into the kitchen, finding a tray full of cold-cuts, several types of cheese, tomato, lettuce, onion, pickle, and even a jar of sandwich dressing. They were all beside a plate of toasted Italian bread. She settled for a piece of toast, plopping down on the stool, and turned around to watch Lisa close the book, handing it to Sehmi.
“I need to speak with Sam,” the Fang said, and Sehmi eased out of the way, letting Lisa fumble off the mattress and down into the kitchen. Each step made the tears in her eyes rise, as if a storm that had been waiting to unleash the entire time. Now it was given its thunder. Its warning. They streamed down her face as her soft smile broke into twisted grimace, and Samantha whipped the other stool around just in time to catch her. “Thank you.”
“Sissy Lissy? Are you otay?” Sehmi exclaimed, taking a st-
Lisa held up her hand. “I am all right... Please. Will you close the door?”
Sehmi groaned, looked between her and Samantha, and huffed as she slammed it... Lisa straightened herself on the stool, sniffling, but couldn’t stifle her tears.
“What’s wrong?” Samantha said. “What happened?”
“Peter,” she said, croaking his name, and gulped. “He... he asked me to marry him.”
“He did what!”
She nodded, and Samantha finally saw that there was warmth in those cheeks, that her grimace was actually a smile turned sour.
“He proposed. I... I couldn’t be happier.” Her grimace turned into a scowl, and she wrung her dress. “However, for some reason, I couldn’t say yes.”
She sniffled, sobbed harder, glaring at the floor.
“No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get the words out. All... all I could do was stare at him. He... he... he stormed off... He must think I hate him!”
“N-no, Lisa. He... he wouldn’t think that.” He patted her shoulder, hugged her, shushing her torrential sobs as she rocked her gently. Wow this is becoming a trend. “It’s not your fault, Lisa.”
“But it is! All I had to do was say yes... why couldn’t I say it?”
“W-well... is your heart in the r-”
“We have known each other for a long time, Sam. So long.”
“So he told me.”
She sniffed one more time... and pushed away, scowling at Samantha.
“So you knew he was going to propose?”
“Not in the slightest. He completely left me out of that little loop. Even after stealing my cupcake- oh. Nevermind.”
“How do you keep doing that! Does it have to do with what you two were talking about? Did it... Was I involved?”
Samantha was about to answer... but couldn’t. She couldn’t tell her about Lucille, about what they were planning. If she was already distraught, she would be crushed if s-
“You said you couldn’t say the word, no matter how hard you tried?” Samantha said.
“It is quite uncouth to avoid the qu-”
“Tell me. Did it feel like the worst case of writer’s block ever, or a migraine... or like somebody clawing at your brain?”
“Y... yes, actually. That last one.”
Samantha sighed, and patted Lisa’s hands.
“Then you have nothing to worry about.”
“R-really? Why? How?”
“I’ll explain it to Peter tomorrow. He’ll be overjoyed. Ecstatic, really- and I really can’t tell you why. Just know... know that I am happy for you two.”
“Okay... thank you?”
Samantha nodded, and helped Lisa to her feet, exclaiming as she almost fell.
“For now, though. Let’s call it. We’re all drained.”
“I concur,” Lisa said, giggling as the door to the kitchen was slid away.
“Is everything otay?” Sehmi said, prodding, and growled as she saw the tears and their ugly marks on Lisa’s face. “Did Peter-”
“Everything will be fine, Sehmi,” Samantha grumbled, and threw an arm around her, all three falling into bed at once, in for a night of raunchy, tawdry, over-the-top, too lewd to describe cuddling. What do you take this for, erotica?
Samantha groaned, snuffling into the pillows, and yawned... while stuffing her face with that confection.
Great. Another day... At this rate, I really do fear for Minos’s health- or my own. These cupcakes are too divine... Might end up changing sides.